


Confide in Me

by aidennestorm



Series: We Keep Living [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aftermath, Aliens Made Them Do It, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Angst, Comfort, Friendship, Fuck Or Die, Gen, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Unresolved Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 02:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aidennestorm/pseuds/aidennestorm
Summary: Alex was there for Peggy when her life took a sharp, horrific turn-- and after an away mission goes equally sideways for Alex, Peggy is right by his side.





	Confide in Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamlittleyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/gifts).



When the transporter beam finally, _finally_ deposits the landing party safely aboard the _Nelson,_ the swoop in Peggy’s stomach is more than just the side effect of rematerialization or the heady rush of relief at being out from under the barrel of a phaser for the first time in _hours_. It’s the sickening reality of what she just saw and heard and couldn’t _stop_ closing in on her, familiar panic tighter than Lafayette’s bruising grip on her arms curling under her skin along with the resentment, irrational and unfounded, for the crew left on board that seemed to stand by and do _nothing_. It’s the awful, crushing moment of silence while the four of them reorient themselves, the shared realization of safety, except—

—Washington staggers back, tugging his uniform further up his waist as his hand falls from its entanglement in Alex’s hair—

—Alex stumbles to his feet, his eyes wide and blurry with tears, his lips red and swollen, his expression twisted into something shocked and wounded and horrified before he hurtles toward the door—

—and Lafayette releases Peggy even as she jerks forward, almost tripping over the steps before righting herself and following Alex, unheeding of any orders shouted behind her, or of the three insistent crewmembers, her own staff, that flag her down in the corridors.

She tears past every single one of them without a word, and doesn’t even blink.

By the time Peggy arrives at Alex’s quarters, a little out of breath, the door is already locked down to command and emergency level crew only. She knows, from her own schematics of the ship, that she’s not one of them… but she’s not an engineer for nothing, and it only takes a matter of minutes tinkering with the nodes behind the conduit before the door slides open. There’s not a single flicker of light, the air heavy and oppressive, and she steels herself against the impulse to retreat and hide away before she steps inside far enough that the door closes, plunging the room into a complete swath of nothingness.

“I’d rather not fall on my ass in the dark just to find you, Alex.”

Alex calls out, voice wrecked and raspy, “Fuck off, Peggy.”

She wrinkles her nose against the acrid smell of vomit, the tang of blood, but doesn’t stop her slow, careful approach. “You know I won’t do that,” she reminds him, trying for casual and (mostly) landing there. “You might as well accept the inevitable.”

 _Nice fucking work_ _,_ she thinks, wincing; it’s too close to the cruelty of their captors, too harsh, too soon, she _knows better._ But Alex only huffs, the noise emerging from some distant point off to her left. “Behind the bed.”

There’s nothing but formless shadows so she follows the direction of Alex’s voice, stopping in her tracks when Alex says, more quietly, “Lights to fifty percent.”

She’s not sure what she’s expecting to see— but it’s no surprise, when her eyes focus, to find the floor littered with unrecognizable shards, Alex without his uniform top and nearly shivering in his thin black undershirt, holding his blood-splattered hand like it’s injured when she knows damn well nothing happened to it on that godforsaken planet.

_“Alex.”_

He shrugs, every line in his shoulders tense and defensive. “What the fuck did you expect?” he snaps. “I’d rather not be thrown in the brig for breaking the captain’s fucking face.”

“I can get a dermal regenerator.”

_“No.”_

She should protest. Should argue, even. But she feels it all too clearly, the precarious balance of autonomy and safety, and she knows what she herself so desperately wanted that only Alex ever gave her— so she carefully picks her way through the debris and sits down besides him instead, curling her knees up to her chest, mirroring his posture.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually murmurs, breaking the lingering silence.

The startled laugh sticks in Alex’s throat, sounding almost hysterical. “At least I’m not dead, right? At least he saved my life?”

“Alex—”

 _“Don’t._ Don’t fucking tell me how to react to this.”

“I’m not,” she vows, staring at the bulkhead in front of her, at the space where a tapestry used to hang, now tangled on the floor with Alex’s red uniform shirt. “I’m asking you to listen to me for a minute, even if you can’t hear me. Think you can do that?”

It’s probably a low, shameful blow to deliberately evoke Alex’s notorious inability to back down from a challenge; Peggy flushes, chagrined, to find it easier than she remembers to provoke him. Unlike when she riles him up for their sparring bouts, his face hardens instead of eases, a brittle mask sliding in place. “Fine.”

She lets his unenthusiastic agreement simmer for a moment, waiting for the right words, waiting for Alex’s body to relax even a little, before she asks, “Do you remember what you told me? The last time we sat in one of our quarters together like this?”

Alex shakes his head vehemently, meeting her eyes for the first time after arriving back on board, his gaze fierce. “That was different. He was a fucking _monster.”_

Peggy nearly shudders at the memories of her ex, the echoes of hands and mouth and teeth, but pushes it away. “ _‘_ _At least’_ can still hurt,” she quotes. “ _‘At least’_ still matters.”

When Alex says nothing, only drops his gaze, she reminds him softly, “You’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to grieve.”

Alex shoves his head in his shaking hands, swallowing heavily. “Fuck,” he mumbles, dazed and distant and aching. “He raped me.”

Peggy puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“He didn’t want to rape me,” Alex continues, slow and uncertain, his words muffled. “Did he?”

“Only he has that answer.” Yet she knows she didn’t mistake the wild, guilty horror in Washington’s eyes, the devastation written into every line of his face as he came down Alex’s throat, and cautiously amends her statement to, “But I don’t think he did.”

Quiet descends upon them again, until Alex looks up, following her glance to his abandoned uniform. “What the fuck do I do now?”

“A problem for Future Alex,” she says immediately, easily, standing and brushing off her pants. “Now it’s time to feel.”

He wipes his eyes, furious and quick, and blinks up at her. “We’re a couple of disasters, aren’t we?” he mutters.

“We were disasters even without all this.”

Alex’s answering chuckle is weak, but genuine. He takes Peggy’s outstretched hand, lets her tug him to his feet, a hint of a wry smile on his face when she bumps her shoulder against his.

“It gets better,” Peggy assures him. “I promise.”

“And on the days it doesn’t, I know you’ll be there to set my ass straight.”

“You’re fucking right I will be.”

Alex bumps her shoulder back before he visibly loosens, the last of the fight draining out of him. “All right,” he sighs, reluctant but sure. “Take me to sickbay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dreamlittleyo prompted me sci-fi verse, sex pollen/fuck or die, and the word "disaster"-- and this story grabbed me by the heart and demanded to be told. All my thanks for the inspiration and encouragement, always. ^-^ You can find me peddling my fandom wares on [tumblr.](http://aidennestorm.tumblr.com/)


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